Kiera's P.O.V.
The morning sun streamed through the windows, warm and golden, but it did nothing to thaw the cold pit in my stomach. I sat at the kitchen counter, aimlessly stirring my tea, watching the way the liquid swirled. My body still ached from the run, from—everything. But it wasn’t the soreness that unsettled me. It was the way my skin still tingled, the phantom press of lips still lingering on mine.
Isadora had kissed me.
And I had kissed her back.
I hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t something I planned, wasn’t something I ever even thought possible. But it had happened, and now the memory played on a loop in my mind, taunting me with the heat, the confusion, the rush of something I couldn’t quite define.
I didn’t regret it.
That was the worst part.
I let out a shaky breath, grip
